


Outcasts

by LadyWallace



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adventure, Aziraphale gets into trouble, Crowley bails him out, Friendship, Gen, Historical Backstory, References to Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Arrangement, but not really a crossover, like the Disney movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: 15th century France is a dangerous place, and if there's trouble to be had, Aziraphale is, unfortunately, likely to find it. Good thing a certain demon happens to show up at just the right time.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Outcasts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Commission fic for Whiskerdrops who wanted a sort of Good Omens/Hunchback of Notre Dame crossover. It's not a direct crossover, though you might recognize a couple characters from the movie/book. It's been so long since I watched the movie though that I really didn't add many details, so it's easily read as just a Good Omens story too.

The faire was in full swing as Crowley sauntered through the square, looking for mischief to make and souls to tempt. There was a plethora of little things he could do in a place as big as Paris that could set off all sorts of chain reactions. If he'd learned anything, it was that the French were always willing to start a lot out of nothing.

And he had time to kill. Crowley had been sent to Paris originally to look in on one of Hell's marked souls, a judge of some sort, and add some temptations to solidify their hold over the man. But when Crowley got there, he saw that there was really nothing left that needed to be done to this Frollo chap. He was already _well_ on his path Downstairs. Frankly, his character disgusted Crowley, but he'd been one of Hastur's originally, and the Duke of Hell always tended to choose the really bad ones. Crowley thought that showed a lack of creativity which is why Hastur didn't get nearly as many commendations. Crowley was usually more for widespread dissent. After all, why waste time tempting one soul when you could do one little thing and get ten times that? While Hell might not understand his exact reasoning, it hadn't stopped him getting countless commendations as the souls trickled in, much to Hastur's annoyance.

That Frollo though; Crowley shuddered. He wasn't overly fond of men who hid their nasty deeds under a cover of righteousness. There was something to respect about a person being outright evil. Not that Crowley really liked people who were outright evil, but at least you knew where you stood with them.

So, with his job already done, Crowley had time to kill, and Paris was the perfect place in which to kill time.

He looked around and took a deep breath, grinning as he adjusted his tinted spectacles over his serpentine eyes. Time to have some fun.

_~~~~~~~_

_Aziraphale stepped_ into the church, glancing around at the people there. He could hear their prayers, even if they were not speaking them out loud—being an angel, this obviously came with the territory.

He frowned as he listened to people praying for money or power. Rather silly of them. God never answered such selfish requests, and he wondered why they didn't know better than that. Love…well, that could go either way, he supposed. It depended on how selfish it was and whether it was meant to be or not.

But one voice caught his attention as he recognized the earnestness of someone truly in need, and, even more than that, the humbleness of it.

He glanced around to find the supplicant, and saw a young gypsy woman, kneeling and praying.

_"I only wish that you would grant leniency, Lord, to my people in these hard times. Some of us believe too."_

Aziraphale was touched, a small smile flitting over his face as he thought to make a point to do something for this woman.

However, before he could continue with his plans, a man, a noble by the looks of him, stormed over to where the gypsy woman was kneeling.

"Your kind are not allowed here!" he hissed, his voice still echoing through the vaulted church as he obviously wasn't trying very hard to be quiet. "Go back to the Court of Miracles where the rest of you filthy people live!"

Aziraphale felt anger boiling in his chest, righteous anger. He strode over to the man as the woman stood to leave. "Excuse me, sir, but this is a house of God. Everyone is welcome," he said in a tight voice, trying his best to stay civil.

The man sneered, eyes looking Aziraphale up and down. "I assume by your tailored clothes you are of the upper class so I will not strike you right out, but what do you mean by defending a wretched gypsy, monsieur?"

"I'm simply stating a matter of fact. Monsieur," Aziraphale snipped.

The woman was already cowering away and most of the other people in the church were watching.

"It's honestly disgusting, all these filthy beggars running around the city," the man muttered.

"Perhaps," Aziraphale said firmly, as he looked the man in the eye, drawing himself up to his full height, "if you spent more time worrying about the reason behind why there are so many destitute people running around the city, you would not have to pray for more money yourself."

The man's face turned bright red, and his mouth flapped open. "Th-that…how did you…?"

Aziraphale was already turning around, thinking it best he leave, lest he feel the need to dispense some Heavenly justice upon the man. He caught sight of the woman slipping out of the church and hurried forward after her.

"Er, mademoiselle, wait! I would just like to talk to you!" Aziraphale called, jogging to catch up to her, puffing slightly.

"Oh, please," she pleaded, tugging a colorful scarf over her head. "You've already butted in too much, and I don't need anyone's charity."

"No, that's not…"

But she was already gone, disappearing into the crowd, before Aziraphale could finish his protest. He sighed and turned around.

Running directly into another person.

"Watch it!" the man snarled.

"Oh, dear, I'm terribly sorry, here…" He reached for the man's dark spectacles that had been lost in the collision and then finally turned back around, seeing the man shading his eyes.

Aziraphale's own widened in recognition. _"Crowley?"_

The demon peeked at him. "Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale handed him his glasses back, and Crowley put them on, effectively hiding his golden eyes again. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Aziraphale demanded. "Probably no good, I imagine."

Crowley shrugged. "Well, you know, that sort of thing comes with the job."

Aziraphale gave him a suspicious look. Crowley rolled his eyes behind his glasses.

"Just checking up on some judge that one of my coworkers tempted a few years back. Still going strong."

"Wouldn't happen to be that Judge Frollo, would it?" Aziraphale asked cautiously.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Eh? Yeah, actually."

"Ah," Aziraphale said, tugging at his sleeves to adjust his cuffs.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Crowley demanded.

"Er, nothing much, it's just, well, I've been sent to, er, persuade him back to the side of righteousness."

Crowley smacked his forehead. "Of all the bloody…"

"Well, if I had known you would be here, I would have, you know, told you not to bother," Aziraphale shrugged. "Or you could have gone in my stead."

"And yet we're both here," Crowley said, then sighed, scuffing the cobbles. "Well, I might as well tell you, angel, that he's a lost cause."

"Heaven doesn't really believe in those," Aziraphale said firmly.

"Do they believe in corruption and power?" Crowley asked dryly. "Trust me on this, your lot don't want this one. You may as well let us have him."

Aziraphale bit his lip, but sighed heavily. "Very well. I am rather inclined to agree with you. But we have to make it look good, understand? There still has to be a chance of redemption that's either taken or not or…"

"Don't worry, I don't think that's going to be a hard one to pull," Crowley muttered. "In the meantime, this place is pretty wild."

"It's quite festive," Aziraphale said, eyes sparkling. He'd been wanting to check out the faire since he got there and had been planning to walk about that afternoon after looking into things for the report. "Shall we take a look around? Oh, I do want to try whatever it is that smells so good!"

"Then let's go," Crowley said eagerly, and they strolled off through the square, making their way through the excited attendees and the colorfully dressed players.

Aziraphale bought some small pies for him and Crowley and they ate them as they watched a performer do a juggling act on stilts.

"Oh, bravo!" Aziraphale clapped heartily when the man finished.

He glanced around the crowd and happened to spy the gypsy woman he had seen earlier, dressed in colorful attire like the other players.

"What are you looking at?" Crowley asked, glancing the same direction. "You know that woman?"

Aziraphale shook his head. "No, not really. It's just…a lot of these people live in the poorer parts of the city, and they can really only come out with welcome during faire days like this when people find them novel performers. Any other day, the Parisians mostly see them as beggars."

"That's life, angel," Crowley said with a shrug, but not meanly. He just seemed to accept things for the way they were. He glanced over the heads of the crowd. "Oh, look. More trouble coming."

Aziraphale glanced over the crowd as a man rode through on a horse, a scowl on his face and a sneer on his mouth as he glanced around him in seeming disgust.

"Judge Frollo," Crowley muttered.

Aziraphale watched as the gypsy woman he'd seen earlier was crossing the path of the horse and her scarf flew back in the wind, causing the animal to shy away, rearing.

"Oh, look out!" Aziraphale cried, lunging forward, but it was too late. Frollo barely kept his seat, but was furious as he lashed out at the woman and struck her across the face.

"How dare you spook my horse with gypsy witchcraft?!" he shouted.

The woman had tumbled to the cobbled street and Aziraphale rushed to help her up, instantly healing the scrapes on her hands as he did so.

"There, dear, are you quite all right?" Aziraphale asked softly as she looked up at him in surprise.

"You!" Frollo snarled at Aziraphale, as the guardsmen who were following him, moved forward to handle the situation.

"Arrest this witch!" Frollo snarled, pointing to the woman.

"I am not a witch!" the woman cried.

"Monsieur, the wind simply caught her scarf, you cannot blame her for that!" Aziraphale protested.

"You dare correct me? This woman has been causing trouble around the city and I will take the proper actions." Frollo raised his hand to strike Aziraphale as well, and the angel stood firm, eyes steely as he barred the woman from all of them.

A sudden commotion came about as a juggler lost one of his knives, which spun directly into the helmet of one of the guards with a _clank!_ He toppled over off of his horse and as the other guards and Frollo were distracted, Aziraphale felt the gypsy woman grab him by the wrist and pull him along.

"Come on," she said hurriedly.

"Oh, er, why…my dear, where are we going?"

She didn't say anything, simply urged him on and Aziraphale puffed, until he found that they were moving deeper into the Court of Miracles. The streets here were dark and dirty, and hungry-looking children played in the streets.

Aziraphale looked around as they ducked into an alley where there was a makeshift lean-to set up that he supposed could be called a house in this part of the city. The woman darted inside, pulling Aziraphale with her.

"They aren't likely to follow us in here," she told him.

"I doubt it," Aziraphale agreed. "I think we got away soon enough." He wasn't sure where Crowley was, but the demon could handle himself. Actually, Aziraphale would bet that he had been the one responsible for the distraction.

"I don't know why you keep stepping in to help me," the woman said, playing with the fraying edge of her blouse. "But, I suppose I should say thank you."

Aziraphale gave her a small smile. "I just hate seeing people treated like that." He looked around the small space. "Do you have a family?"

She shook her head. "No, I travel with part of the troupe of players. I was performing earlier. Now, I probably should stay here. Which means less money." She bit her lip as if embarrassed to have admitted that.

"Well, in my experience, things have a way of working out for the best in the end usually," Aziraphale said with a smile. "Even if it doesn't seem like it at the time."

She glanced at him wearily, but didn't protest. "What's your name?" she asked instead.

"I'm Aziraphale," the angel said. "And you?"

"Esmeralda," she said quietly.

"Well, Esmeralda, I hope you don't mind if I keep you company for a little while? At least until the trouble dies down."

_~~~~~~~_

_Crowley watched the_ angel and the gypsy woman slip off through the crowd during the confusion that had him smirking as the guard fell off his horse, knocked cold. But the others didn't seem to want to give up the chase so easily and Frollo didn't either.

"I will not rest until that witch is found!" he commanded.

"Burning witches doesn't look very good on your Infernal resume," Crowley muttered. But more worryingly was that the guards seemed to have spotted Aziraphale and the woman making off to the Court of Miracles and looked like they were going to follow them.

Crowley sighed. Looks like he was going to have to rescue the angel. It wouldn't be the first time, and probably, he decided with resignation, wouldn't be the last. He certainly knew Aziraphale wasn't going to leave the woman to be taken by the guards and if the guards wouldn't stop with anything short of a miracle happening—Crowley wished he could give the angel the hint—then Aziraphale was going to need a rescue unless he wished to face discorporation.

So he hurried off to see what he could do about finding his acquaintance. After all, it wouldn't do to have the angel die now and complicate things just when they were starting to get the hang of this whole Arrangement thing.

_~~~~~~~_

_Aziraphale could hear_ the guards before they came close enough to see. Esmeralda seemed shocked.

"I didn't think they saw us," she said, going pale.

"Just stay calm," Aziraphale said quietly. "If we stay here, they might not even see us."

But Esmeralda shook her head, already standing up. "No. I've seen them hunt people down here before. They terrorize the poor families until they find the person they're looking for. If I stay here, they'll only hurt more people, and I…I couldn't stand that."

Aziraphale remembered her prayer earlier, and decided it was time for some Heavenly intervention. "Right. Well, don't worry. I have a place we can go. I'm staying at an inn outside of the city. It's not too far from where we are now, and I doubt they would go so far as to look for you there. The woman who runs it is very kind, and I'm sure she would let you stay until this all blows over."

Esmeralda hesitated, biting her lip, but nodded. "Okay."

Aziraphale smiled, relieved. "We should go quickly. It sounds like they're approaching this street."

They crept out of the alley and darted down another street, only to run into a guard.

"Hey!" the man cried. "That's them!"

"Bother," Aziraphale hissed, as Esmeralda shoved him down another street and they started to run.

Hoofbeats and shouts sounded out behind them and as Aziraphale turned around, he saw more guards and Frollo himself, pulling his horse to a stop at the end of the alleyway.

"After them! I want them both taken in!"

Aziraphale tripped and fell, hissing under his breath as his knees slammed into the street. He was up soon enough though, still running after Esmeralda. He was puffing quite a lot and they still had a long way to go.

And their pursuers were not giving up. Aziraphale quickly tried to calculate their current situation. They needed to get the men off their tails if they were going to be able to hide at the inn as Aziraphale had planned. He certainly didn't want to bring trouble down on the woman there by being caught.

A figure leapt out onto the street ahead of them and Aziraphale and Esmeralda both cried out.

"It's just me!" Crowley hissed, ushering them forward. "This way!"

"Oh, thank Heaven!" Aziraphale exclaimed.

Crowley winced. "I would rather you not, considering." He shoved them down another trail. "This should shake them a little."

They hurried down the alley and Aziraphale was glad to see that they were finally close enough to the inn to make a run for it, hopefully without being seen.

"There!" Aziraphale gasped, urging them on.

"You go ahead," Crowley told them. "I'll hold them off."

"But Crowley!" Aziraphale protested before the demon held up his hand, grinning at him.

"I'll be fine, angel, they won't catch me!"

Aziraphale huffed, not liking this much, but it wasn't like he really had the choice to argue either. He nodded to Crowley and motioned for Esmeralda to follow him.

They ran to the inn and knocked on the door.

The innkeeper answered the door and was shocked to see them in such a state.

"Oh, whatever is the matter, monsieur?" she exclaimed.

"I do apologize, madam, but we are in a spot of trouble. This young woman is being pursued."

"By what?" the innkeeper shrieked, closing the door behind them.

Aziraphale glanced worriedly out the window where he could already see the guards in the distance. They were carrying torches now in the darkening night and Aziraphale swallowed hard, hoping they would not look in this direction.

Unfortunately, he seemed to be a bit out of luck. Perhaps he should have performed a miracle, but if Crowley was already planning something….

"They're coming here!" Esmeralda said, worrying her hands as she tried to catch her breath. "Aziraphale!"

"I see them," the angel replied grimly.

The innkeeper glanced out. "The town guard?" she demanded in shock.

"I promise it's nothing but a petty misunderstanding," Aziraphale told her. "And I do apologize for any trouble that we've brought to you, but…"

He was cut off by a shout. "We know you're in there!" Frollo's voice sounded outside. "Send out the witch and we will do no harm to anyone else."

Aziraphale clenched his hands into fists as he saw the guards surrounding the building. Where on earth was Crowley? He thought the demon was supposed to have been coming up with some master plan?

"This is the final warning I will give," Frollo said and Aziraphale thought he actually sounded like he was enjoying this. Probably was, the sick man.

Esmeralda paced several steps before she finally lunged forward, grabbing Aziraphale's arm. "Let me go. If it will end this, I'll give myself up."

"My dear, I will have none of that," Aziraphale told her firmly. "You did absolutely nothing, and these men want your life for it. Well, I'm here to protect it, and I have a friend out there who will think of something." Hopefully, he added inwardly. But considering how many scrapes he'd seen the demon get out of before, he had every confidence.

"Very well," Frollo's voice said in a satisfied snap. "You refuse to come out, so we will do away with you in there. In the manner all witches should be dealt with. And the conspirators with you."

Aziraphale watched in mounting horror as the guards approached with the torches.

Esmeralda held onto his arm tightly, eyes wide, frightened.

The innkeeper let out a strangled sound. "They're going to burn it down!"

Aziraphale saw that they were, indeed, going to burn it down. With them inside. The guards were carrying torches toward the house and lighting the ramshackle building from any debris that was resting around the outside. A window crashed upstairs along with a thump and Aziraphale just knew it was a torch being thrown through the window.

"What do we do?" Esmeralda asked the angel, eyes wet. "How do we get out of here? They have the place surrounded."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. There's always an avenue for escape when you know where to look." Crowley had appeared in the room with a grin.

The innkeeper shrieked. "How did you get in here?"

Crowley ignored her and strode over to the angel, shaking his head. "How many times is it I've saved _you_ now? I think you owe me."

"Anything you want," Aziraphale sighed in relief, then lowered his voice. "Now what is your plan? We have to get these people out of here."

Crowley cocked an eyebrow. "You don't think it's your turn to perform a miracle?"

Aziraphale scoffed. "What was the point of the rescue then?"

Crowley rolled his eyes again, and moved his whole head as he did so to exaggerate the gesture.

"Oh, fine, I suppose there's only one thing for it."

Aziraphale's eyes widened. "Wait, what? _You're_ doing a miracle? _In front of these people?"_ he hissed so none of the others could hear him.

"You want them to die? And us to discorporate on top of it?" Crowley demanded.

"So you're planning on saving an angel? How are you going to break that one to the Powers That Be?"

"Easy, I never say anything about it," Crowley said with a shrug. "As far as I know, I'm keeping Frollo from doing the one good deed he's ever done."

Aziraphale's eyes popped out. " _Good deed?_ How on earth would you class this as a good deed?"

"My lot don't like burning witches—we're all for witches. As long as the old boy thinks he's taking out a witch, he's done for as far as the Infernal Powers would have it. Can't be all righteous about your anger. Hastur should thank me. I'm saving his bloody career."

Aziraphale's mouth flapped, unsure what to say. "Well, I…I don't really know what to say about that! I mean, I don't know if I can condone it, but…"

The flames were crackling around the building now, and the place was heating up. Aziraphale could hear it on the thatching of the roof, and it was only a matter of time before that was all up in smoke, considering it hadn't rained for more than a week. After that, the rest of the building was sure to go quickly. The woman and Esmeralda gasped as flaming thatching began to fall into the house.

"We need to get out!" the innkeeper screamed.

"Well?" Aziraphale asked his demonic cohort. "You said you would do it."

Crowley muttered something unflattering under his breath and closed his eyes, and spread his wings, which shimmered in the heat, hopefully only visible to Aziraphale, otherwise there would be a lot of questions.

"Right," he muttered, and drew power up from hell, causing Aziraphale to feel a sudden oppressiveness in the room.

As it culminated, Crowley snapped his fingers.

_~~~~~~~_

_The inn finally_ started to collapse and the guards stepped forward to see inside the windows.

"Well?" Frollo shouted to them. "Do you see them? Are they dead?"

But before the guard could reply, a shout of warning rang from one of the other men and they all leapt away as the walls fell apart in a very dramatic way to reveal no one at all inside the house. Not even bodies.

Frollo sat on his horse, mouth open as he stared in shock. "What? How…" He looked around. "Search the area! They mustn't have gotten far! They may have had a secret passage or something. Get them!"

Some of the men ran as others started to grab water to start putting the fire out. Frollo sat with his hands clenched around the reins, cursing under his breath, facing the reality that he was going to have to let these miscreants get away.

_~~~~~~~~_

_Up on a hill_ outside of Paris, Crowley laughed as they watched the guards scatter out looking for them.

Aziraphale stood beside him, unable to help a smile. "Well, looks like that turned out okay after all."

Esmeralda and the innkeeper were sitting on the ground in shock.

"What…how?" the older woman stuttered. "Impossible!"

"I don't understand what happened," Esmeralda said quietly, looking at the two men—or rather, men-shaped beings.

"You're not actually witches, are you?" the innkeeper demanded.

"'Course not, no broom," Crowley relied flippantly. "Might want to keep it to yourself though. After all," he muttered as an aside to Aziraphale. "Could still get into trouble for this. You never know with my People."

"Hm, yes, quite right," Aziraphale said. "Perhaps I should take the credit for this one, after all?"

Crowley cocked his head in consideration and finally gave a sharp nod. "Yeah, probably for the best."

"Well," Aziraphale said with a small smile. " _I'll_ always know you were the one who saved us."

"Oh, rub it in," Crowley muttered. "But you're welcome."

"I think we had best get them out of here," Aziraphale said. "The guards are still far afield, but…"

"Good idea," Crowley said and there just happened to be a cart and horses passing on the road. He hailed the driver, paid him off and Aziraphale helped the two women into the back, promising the innkeeper that he would pay for the inn and any other damages. The woman finally agreed that she would accept that as reparation.

"Will you be okay?" Aziraphale asked Esmeralda softly.

She still looked a little shocked but nodded. "Yes. Thank you. Both of you."

Aziraphale smiled and pressed her hand in his. "Just remember that things do tend to get better. I promise."

She smiled softly and leaned forward to kiss his cheek before pulling back as the wagon started to move, leaving Aziraphale blushing pink.

Crowley sauntered over to him. "Well? What now?"

"Well, I'd say we've both done as much as we could here, and quite honestly, I'm not really interested in visiting Paris again this century," Aziraphale said with a sigh.

"Back to London, then?" Crowley asked.

"I suppose so, yes, until they decide to send me elsewhere."

"Well, I guess I'll do the same. Paris wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be." He glanced sideways. "A traveling companion is always nice, though."

Aziraphale smiled. "Yes, indeed."

And the two strode off through the night toward the port, congratulating themselves on a job, mostly, well done.


End file.
